Mr. Morgan stared at his phone screen in total shock. The bright red digits of his main corporate account blinked at a flat zero. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead. He knew he had to act fast before panic took over the room and ruined his family name forever. He pushed himself out of the wooden pew and stepped into the wide center aisle. He smoothed his expensive suit jacket with shaking fingers and forced a wide smile onto his face. "Please, everyone, please sit down," Mr. Morgan called out across the silent pews. His voice bounced off the stone walls, sounding thin and tight. "It is just a small computer glitch. A temporary network outage in the city grid. Our IT teams are fixing it right now." Nobody sat down. The wealthy guests stared at him like he was a total stranger. Low whispers broke out across the rows, spreading like wildfire. People turned their phone screens directly toward the altar. They recorded every single drop of sweat running down his face. Panic s

Sean stared down at the trembling accountant in wild disbelief. His face turned a deep, ugly shade of red with pure fury. The quiet solemnity of the holy cathedral vanished into thin air. Saliva flew wildly from Sean's lips as his mind snapped completely under the crushing pressure of the moment. "You lying piece of trash!" Sean roared at the top of his lungs. He moved forward from the elevated altar steps like a rabid dog attacking its prey. He grabbed the terrified accountant by the lapels of his wrinkled gray suit. He shook the older man back and forth with all his brute strength, his knuckles tightened at every single second of action. "Tell me this is a sick joke!" Sean screamed, his voice cracking with ugly, piercing hysteria. "Tell me our accounts are fine! Tell me right now!" The accountant did not fight back or try to push him away. He just let his heavy head hang low be

The heavy wooden service doors slammed shut behind the three of them with a loud bang. Mr. Morgan slid the thick iron deadbolt across the brackets with trembling hands. Outside in the street, the iron front gates gave a metallic shriek as the hinges tore completely away from the brick pillars. The angry roar of the worker mob flooded the courtyard like crashing water. "They are inside!" Sean shrieked, his voice jumping an octave as he backed away from the doors. "They are likely going to harm us if we keep staying here! We need to move right now!" They did not use the main courtyard where their hired guards had abandoned them. Instead, they bolted down a narrow, damp maintenance corridor that smelled of old dust and candle wax. The hallway twisted through the ancient stone foundations of the cathedral, leading down to a hidden service parking bay tucked away from the main road. A

The limousine engine roared as the terrified chauffeur slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. The heavy vehicle lurched forward, tearing away from the brick wall and speeding down the narrow service alley. Shards of broken glass from the shattered windshield fell across the dashboard like tiny diamonds in the dim light. Mr. Morgan sat still on the seat for a few seconds. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps that rattled inside his chest. Then his survival instincts kicked in with brutal force. He moved across the leather interior like a desperate animal, grabbing the built-in secure corporate phone from its wooden slot on the side console. His fingers shook so badly he dropped the handset twice before managing to lift it to his ear. He slammed his thumb down on the speed dial button programmed for his chief banking executive. The phone line connected insta

Sean slammed his muddy shoe against the rotting wooden door one more time. His face was twisted into a mask of pure, ugly madness, and spit flew from his lips as he screamed curses into the quiet night. The manager did not even step back. He held the walkie-talkie close to his mouth, his thumb pressed hard down on the metal talk button. "Security team to sector four," the manager spoke into the radio in a calm, steady voice. "We have three trespassers causing property damage in front of room one hundred and twelve. Remove them immediately." A burst of static crackled from the small speaker, followed by a gruff voice acknowledging the order. Mr. Morgan stood a few feet away, clutching his chest with both hands. He looked like an old ghost trapped in the rain, his breath coming in short, rattling gasps that sounded like a dying engine. Audr